


As Dreamers Do

by gestanonverba



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Pinocchio (1940)
Genre: More to be added as they appear - Freeform, and the pets but.. they're not really Main Characters...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-05 18:13:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20493101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gestanonverba/pseuds/gestanonverba
Summary: Geppetto's wish may have been granted and fulfilled in full, but that doesn't mean the road to becoming a family is by any means an easy one.(AKA 'I want to see more wholesome post-movie content and if nobody else will write it I guess I have to do it myself'.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's uh, it's basically what it says on the tin, I have some Feelings about this family and the growing pains they need to go through to adjust to one another and. Yeah. That's it. I just want to write wholesome content leave me alone.
> 
> Other important notes, uhh... Lampwick will be in this later on I just didn't want to tag him and leave people disappointed that he's not in the first chapter. In general these aren't really linear but they follow some sorta line of continuity? So while the first two or three will just be setting things up (I know that's virtually All That's Going On in this chapter) you're free to leave requests for what you'd like to see.

The night was bright with the glow of a thousand stars, one more brilliant than any of the rest, and the house was equally aglow with the sound of music. Pinocchio was happier than he had been in a very long time - well, at least it felt like a very long time to him, though he was aware he had not even been alive for longer than a day or two (though many of those hours had been filled with fear and loneliness). He was with his father again, and everyone was safe, and he was real - flesh and blood.

And yet not everything was right.

He couldn’t entirely place his finger on what was out of place. It wasn’t his father or Figaro or Cleo, because they were all still celebrating. And it wasn’t Jiminy -

\- Well, maybe it was Jiminy, because Pinocchio realized then that he hadn’t seen his conscience since sometime during their encounter with Monstro. Perhaps they’d accidentally left him out at sea, or maybe he had decided to leave again (Jiminy was very prone to this, Pinocchio had learned). 

He supposed, though not without a twinge of sadness, it made sense that he would leave. The Blue Fairy had said it was his job to help Pinocchio become real, and now his job was over, and he probably had other things to do, although Pinocchio didn’t really know what else Jiminy ever did with his time or where he would go if he left. He had to have a home, right? Or did he live here? He had been in the workshop when the Blue Fairy came and surely there was a reason for that.

Pinocchio was spared from further concern, though, as he looked around the workshop and abruptly spotted movement out through one of the windows - Jiminy was perched on the outside sill, there, and though for a moment Pinocchio wondered if he really was about to leave, he was still glad he hadn’t missed the chance to talk to him (and further glad that he had not, in fact, been lost at sea).

He all but ran across the workshop, much to the confusion of Geppetto, and flung the window open with such fervor that it nearly sent the cricket flying. “Jiminy! You’re still here!”

Jiminy, to his credit, only looked momentarily startled. “Still here? Of course I am!” He hopped through the still-open window and nudged it partially closed; Pinocchio finished the job. “Where else would I be?”

Pinocchio didn’t really know, he had just been worried, so he merely shrugged his shoulders and instead changed the subject with a wide grin. “Didja see? I’m real now! Look, see?” He spun around in a little circle and then held out his hands for the cricket to jump to, which he did with a laugh.    
  
“You sure are! Y’know, the human look suits ya. And boy, did you earn it.” Jiminy tipped his hat up, voice growing more sincere. “I’m awful proud of you, Pinoke.”

The former puppet beamed. “Thanks, Jiminy.” And then: “You helped a lot.”

"Nah. This was all you, son.”

“Pinocchio?” The two both turned to look (well, Pinocchio turned, and Jiminy just sort of stumbled in his palm until he was still again) as Geppetto approached, brow furrowed with concern. “Is everything-” 

Geppetto paused, spotting Jiminy, and then looked between his son and the cricket a few times before bending lower to be closer to eye level with Pinocchio’s palms. 

“Who’s this?”

“Father, this is Jiminy Cricket!”

It was very difficult to tell if Geppetto was surprised by Jiminy's general presence or merely the fact that Pinocchio was claiming he was a cricket despite all appearances indicating otherwise. “...Jiminy?”

“I told you I got a conscience,” Pinocchio offered by way of explanation.

Jiminy hastened to explain more thoroughly, though not without significant interruption from Pinocchio. “Uh, you see, I just so happened to, er, be in the… the area at the time you were carving Pinoke, here, and-”

“So the Blue Fairy told him to help me become a real boy!” 

“I didn’t help all that much, really, Pinoke-”

“And she told him he’d get a badge and everything! She did give you a badge, didn’t she, Jiminy?”

“She did, yes.” Jiminy unpinned something from his jacket and set it in Pinocchio’s other palm in what was most likely an attempt to keep him quiet for at least long enough to introduce himself. Pinocchio raised it closer to his face to study the little gold badge with fascination. “Anyway, Mister Geppetto, it’s real nice to meet you. I was just here helpin’ out Pinoke. But he’s an awful good kid, I didn’t really-”

“He helped me get outta that cage,” Pinoke piped up despite Jiminy making a slicing motion at his throat to try and subtly encourage him to perhaps save this topic of conversation for a later time. 

Geppetto looked somewhere between bewildered and horrified. “Cage?”

“And he stopped me from turning into a donkey! I still got the ears, though, d’you remember that, Father?”

“I-”

“And then we went to the bottom of the ocean to find Monstro, I betcha remember that part ‘cause you were there!”

“Look, this is a very long story and I’m sure we’re all real tired,” Jiminy interrupted with a cough, and if Geppetto felt otherwise he was too shell-shocked to protest the suggestion. “Maybe we oughta, uh, save this for the morning? How’s that sound?”

“Why?” Asked Pinocchio.

“Because if you tell your Father one more thing he’s gonna have a heart attack,” Jiminy told Pinocchio quietly.

“What’s a heart attack?”

* * *

It took a good while longer for everyone to settle down. Geppetto, despite wearily agreeing that perhaps any further discussion of the events of the last few days ought to be saved for the next day, insisted upon properly introducing Jiminy to Figaro and Cleo - the latter of which responded far better than the cat did, and Geppetto suspected he would be dishing out several lectures regarding not attempting to eat family members for the next several months.

Furthermore, he practically insisted upon carving a proper bed both for Pinocchio and Jiminy right then and there and it was only through insistence on Jiminy's part that he agreed to postpone that project at least for the night. Pinocchio did relocate Jiminy's makeshift bed to a shelf closer to the human's bed, regardless. 

Finally, everyone was in their proper place and the majority of the household was asleep, save for Pinocchio, who still had a terrible nagging feeling that something was wrong. 

This confused him greatly, because now he _knew _everyone was here. He even ran through a list of all his family and friends in his head - Father was here, and Figaro and Cleo, and now Jiminy, and they were the only friends he really had, except for Honest John and Gideon but they weren't very _good_ friends and he didn't really care all too much if he didn't see them again. There was also Lampwick, but-

Pinocchio shot upright so abruptly that Figaro cracked open an eye to glare at him for a moment.

Lampwick! What had happened to him? They had left him back on the island when he was still turning into a donkey - what if the Coachman got him? What happened to all the other donkeys? Why did Pinocchio get to be real when he had been just as bad as they had? Why didn't they get to be safe at home with their families?

With great urgency, Pinocchio first debated awakening Geppetto - but he wouldn't understand, he didn't know first thing about what had happened on Pleasure Island, not yet - so he then settled on carefully climbing out of bed and shuffling across the floor to Jiminy's matchbox.

"Jiminy!" He whispered, then repeated it a little louder, and when that didn't work he carefully poked the cricket. 

Jiminy swatted his hand away with his umbrella. 

"Jiminyyy!" Pinocchio shook him a little, pleading. "This is real important!" 

"Pinocchio, do you have any idea what time it is?" The cricket groused, pushing himself up into a sitting position and wearily running a hand down his face. 

Pinocchio looked at the wall of clocks behind him, none of which he knew how to read, and then hesitantly shook his head.

There was a very heavy sigh. "Wha'd'ya want?"

"Well," said Pinocchio, and he wrung his hands together worriedly, "I was just thinkin' about, um... about Lampwick-"

Jiminy made a face, perhaps because he had been awoken to discuss one of his newfound least favorite topics. This didn't escape Pinocchio's notice.

"I'm real worried about him, Jiminy, it isn't fair that I gotta go home and he's still a donkey. Do you think he has a family, too? Do you think maybe they're worried about him?"

"He certainly didn't seem all that concerned about the possibility at the time," Jiminy huffed. "And besides! I gave him the chance to listen and he didn't take it! That's on him!"

"But you're _my _conscience, not his. I bet Lampwick didn't ever have anybody to show him what's right and what's wrong."

"Well I- uh- look, we didn't have time to go back and save everybody. And Lampwick would've slowed us down," Jiminy reasoned, unable to protest Pinocchio's reasoning. "And you're right. I'm your conscience, not his. I had to get you outta there. I couldn't worry about Lampwick."

"But I'm worried about him," Pinocchio repeated.

"...I know, Pinoke."

"I think he should get another chance, too. The Blue Fairy gave me another chance, remember?"

"She did." Jiminy's responses grew increasingly reluctant.

"So maybe she'd give him one?"

"...Maybe if he asks for one."

"But he doesn't know about her and he's a donkey now. So I guess maybe I should ask for him?"

Jiminy looked at him for a while longer and then sighed. "Well, I don't see why not." 

He hopped onto Pinocchio's shoulder and pointed him over towards the window near the workbench, so as to not wake up the rest of the household, and together they opened up the window to stare out at the nighttime sky.

"That one," Jiminy pointed upwards to the biggest and brightest star. "Right up there."

"How do ya get her to listen."

"Oh, I dunno, she seems to know when she's bein' talked to," Jiminy remarked fondly. "But I suppose maybe making a wish couldn't hurt."

"Okay," said Pinocchio, and then he paused. "Um, you can go back to bed. I kind of wanna talk to her by myself."

Although Jiminy gave him a concerned look, he nodded in response, and went to hop off of the windowsill and back across the room. "Sure thing, Pinoke."

Pinocchio waited until he had hopped off before turning back to the window, face entirely serious as he focused upon the star that supposedly belonged to the Blue Fairy. Jiminy had said that she seemed to know when she was needed, and Pinocchio definitely felt as though he needed her now - more importantly, Lampwick needed her. 

"Hello, Miss Fairy, it's me, Pinocchio. I used to be a puppet, remember? And now I'm real. Um, thanks! For making me real, I mean. I think it's really nice," he began, twiddling his fingers together nervously as he spoke. "Um, I really need to talk to you. I know you're really busy, but if you have some time do you think you could listen for a little bit?"

The star seemed to twinkle pointedly at him. Pinocchio hoped that meant yes. 

"I was just thinkin' about my friend Lampwick. Do you know Lampwick? I met him on Pleasure Island. And... well, I know he wasn't making really good choices, but I don't think that's his fault, um, ma'am. He didn't have a conscience like I did. You gave me Jiminy, but he didn't have anybody. It's not fair," he pointed out. 

The star said nothing, predictably, nor did the Fairy appear, but Pinocchio continued nonetheless. 

"I just think he should get one more chance. And maybe this time there could be somebody to help him. That way he can learn to do good things, too." Pinocchio paused for a second, and then, filled with the fervor of a sudden idea, perked up. "Maybe I could help him! I could be his conscience. And I don't even want a badge or anything - oh, and thank you for giving Jiminy his badge, he really likes it-" he felt the need to interject, "-but I just want to help him. I don't want him to be a donkey forever."

He paused for a long while, looking up at the star, which still shone brightly through the opening window and into the workshop. 

"Please?" Asked Pinocchio. 

"Are you sure, Pinocchio?" A gentle voice replied. 

Pinocchio turned around, surprised, and behind him he saw the Blue Fairy - he wasn't sure when she had appeared, or how he had missed it, but she was as real as she had been the last two times he had seen her. She bent down slightly to get closer to Pinocchio's height, and he turned away from the workbench to meet her halfway, smiling.

For a very brief second he debated waking Jiminy up again, because Jiminy really seemed to like the Blue Fairy and probably wouldn't believe him in the morning if he said she showed up and he'd missed her, but there were far more important matters going on at the moment so he figured it wasn't really that big of a deal. 

"Yes, ma'am," he said instead, "I'm really sure. He's my friend," and maybe even his best friend, because Pinocchio thought he really should be allowed to have two best friends, "and I really wanna help him."

The Blue Fairy smiled at him kindly, though she was silent for a moment longer as though weighing the issue, and then she dipped her head in a small nod. 

"Very well, then. You're a clever boy, Pinocchio. Perhaps Lampwick has earned one more chance at doing good."

"Really?" Pinocchio gasped, and then recalled that everyone else was still asleep, and lowered his voice. "I mean, really? You'll change him back?"

"For now, yes. But he must learn this time," she warned him.

Pinocchio nodded his head again. "I'll help him, honest, I will."

She laughed quietly, and as she rose back up to her full height she began to fade away as though she had never been there at all, returning to the star that still lit up the entire house with a brightness that rivaled that of the sun. 

"I know you will."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pinocchio has two dads
> 
> i mean jiminy is like. a shitty dad. but he's still a dad

The next morning Pinocchio woke up a fair bit later than the rest of the household, having been up quite late at night, and once he recalled the events that had transpired he hurried across the house to the table where Jiminy was situated, very pointedly attempting to ignore Figaro who seemed to be glaring daggers at him from across the table for one reason or another. Figaro had been very irritable as of quite recently, having not even had the chance to adjust to Pinocchio before Jiminy was introduced and further divided Geppetto’s attention away from the poor cat.

  
“Jiminy!” Pinocchio said in a rush, without taking the time for any proper pleasantries. He did at least stop to pet Figaro as he all but ran over. Cleo watched him with great interest, always vying to be involved in anything she could be. “Guess what!”

  
“Good morning to you, too,” said Jiminy.

  
It took Pinocchio a second of confusion to realize that he was attempting to lecture him on manners, or something. “Oh. Good morning, Jiminy. Now guess what?”

  
“Hm,” Jiminy feigned deep thought. “Lemme guess. You slept through school?”

  
“No!” said Pinocchio, and then he paused, horrified, and looked to the window. “Did I?”

  
Jiminy nodded.

  
“Really?”

  
“Yes, really. But I managed to convince your father that maybe you need a bit of a breather before you get started on the whole school routine, anyhow. And you oughta learn the path there, first, and I’m sure there’s more supplies we’ll need to buy, and-” Jiminy began ticking things off on his fingers, and Pinocchio didn’t want to have to remember such a long list, so he chose to stop listening around that point.

  
“I guess that makes sense,” he said instead.

  
“We will just consider it an early weekend,” said Geppetto good-naturedly, who had finally noticed Pinocchio was awake and walked over to set half a loaf of bread and some cheese down on the table. Jiminy vacated onto the back of a chair. “But, my, you slept in late.”

  
“He was up late,” muttered Jiminy.

  
“Oh, right.” Pinocchio suddenly remembered he had news, and he pulled out the chair and climbed onto it as he continued. “Guess what happened last night?”

  
Geppetto looked as though he physically could not handle any more news, but he arched his eyebrows expectantly regardless.

  
Pinocchio didn’t wait for anyone to guess this time, and he continued straightaway. “Well, the Blue Fairy came-”

  
Geppetto glanced over his shoulder at the workbench with great apprehension as though half expecting another toy to have sprung to life.

  
“Did she really?” Jiminy sounded doubtful.

  
“Uhuh.”

  
“She did not.”

  
“She did too!”

  
“But I would’ve noticed!”

  
“The Blue Fairy came,” Pinocchio continued, feeling as though Jiminy was gearing up for an entire argument about what he could and could not sleep through, “and I told her all about Lampwick-”

  
“Lampwick?” Geppetto echoed, and he, too, took a seat at the table, hands pensively folded in front of him.

  
Pinocchio and Jiminy exchanged A Look.

  
“He’s just one of my friends, father,” Pinocchio explained at great length.

  
“Not a very good one,” Jiminy said under his breath.

  
“Oh?” If Geppetto was at all put off by Jiminy’s backseat narration, he didn’t show it, and he nodded for Pinocchio to continue.

  
“And she said he can come back if I’d agree to help him learn right and wrong! She’ll make him human again and everything. He’s gonna get another chance just like I asked!”

  
Pinocchio paused, then, positively beaming and waiting for a reaction. He didn’t really know what he was expecting, although he was thinking it probably warranted something along the lines of fanfare and celebration, because he was certainly excited about it. Geppetto, though, just looked mildly confused (though clearly attempting to appear happy just due to the fact that Pinocchio was happy) and Jiminy, predictably, looked rather irked.

  
“Do you even know where he ended up?” Jiminy pointed out. “How’re you so sure he’ll know to come back here, of all places? Heck, maybe he’ll run straight back to Pleasure Island!”

  
Well, Pinocchio wasn’t really sure - he’d somehow assumed that of course Lampwick would come back to find him, they were friends, after all, surely Lampwick missed him as much as he missed Lampwick. And maybe the Blue Fairy would tell him where to go? But he suddenly wasn’t all too certain. 

  
“Well, um…” Pinocchio furrowed his brow and sat there in deep thought as Geppetto passed him a plate. He broke off a piece of bread and handed it to Jiminy on the back of his chair, who despite his general moodiness at the moment still accepted it. “I don’t think he’d ever go back there… and I dunno, I guess the Blue Fairy will make it all work out!” He paused. “Right?”

  
“Oh, of course she will,” Geppetto chimed in with his support despite having absolutely zero idea what the conversation was about. “She brought us all back together again, didn’t she?”

  
Pinocchio and Jiminy both nodded, one more reluctantly than the other, though both agreed the finality of the rhetorical question seemed to be the end of the discussion for the moment.

  
“Well, then, I don’t see any reason to worry. And your friend will be more than welcome here, Pinocchio. Now,” Geppetto continued before Jiminy could voice any further disagreement, “go on and eat, we have much to do today.”

  
“I thought I wasn’t going to school, Father.”

  
“That doesn’t mean we are going to sit around doing nothing! We have things to buy,” he motioned to the half-finished list across the table, “and I was planning on perhaps a picnic for lunch.”

  
“What’s that?” asked Pinocchio.

  
“Eat your breakfast,” Jiminy nudged him lightly from the back of the chair. “You’ll find out later.”

  
“Oh, right.”

  
Pinocchio didn’t really want to wait until later, he wanted to learn right now, but he had all but forgotten about breakfast in the midst of the conversation. He took a bite of both bread and cheese at the same time and his eyes widened with surprise.

  
“They taste different!”

  
“Different from what?” Geppetto looked lost.

  
“From each other.”

  
“All foods taste different from one another,” Jiminy said.

  
“Really?”

  
“I thought you-” Jiminy looked at him for a moment, seeming to reach some sort of conclusion. “Gosh, Pinoke, I guess you couldn’t taste anything as a puppet, could ya?”

  
“Um… I dunno, I guess not.” Pinocciho hadn’t really thought about it back on Pleasure Island, he had just been eating because Lampwick had been eating, but now that he considered it there hadn’t really been any point to the action. It hadn’t tasted good, or bad, or like anything at all.

  
“Boy, you’ve got a lot of learnin’ to do to catch up to the other kids your age.”

  
“Is that bad?”

  
“Oh, no, of course not,” Geppetto assured him, and he reached out one hand across the table to take Pinocchio’s. “You are special, Pinocchio, and that is wonderful. Never forget that.”

* * *

Once breakfast had been cleaned up Geppetto decided he ought to get an early start on shopping - after all, school preparation notwithstanding there was also an extra mouth to feed (two, if Jiminy was to be included, though evidently Geppetto didn’t expect a cricket to be a great tax on supplies in any manner). When he offered for the two to accompany him to the village markets to buy food for lunch, he was rather surprised to have his offer gently declined.

“Not really a big fan of crowds,” Jiminy said.

  
“I, um, I just wanna stay home for a little bit, Father,” Pinocchio said.

  
“Whatever for?” Geppetto knelt down and pressed the back of his hand to Pinocchio’s forehead. “Are you feeling well?”

  
“I’m okay! I just want to wait for Lampwick.”

  
Jiminy sighed, and Geppetto exchanged a brief look with the cricket as he shrugged helplessly.

  
“Very well,” he straightened up again. “It will only be a short trip. Then… ah, Jiminy. You are in charge.”

  
Figaro meowed loudly in protest, stretching up to dig his claws into Geppetto’s shin. He gently picked the cat up by the scruff and moved him onto the workbench, next to Cleo, who gave him a look of admonishment.

  
“Now, Figaro. You are always the one left in charge. Give someone else a turn,” he chided. Figaro scowled and then turned his ire towards Jiminy, who had momentarily forgotten his unease regarding the whole Lampwick situation to instead radiate smugness. “When I return we can go pick out a couple of new outfits for school, hm?”

  
They waved Geppetto off as he departed down the street, and then Pinocchio pulled a chair up to one of the front windows of the house and parked himself there firmly, feet swinging and chin propped up in his hands.

  
“You’re really just gonna sit here?” Jiminy asked after watching him for a bit. “What if he doesn’t show up today? Or tomorrow? What if it takes him months and months?”

  
“I can wait,” Pinocchio said resolutely. Then: “How long’s a month?”

  
“Y’know how long you’ve been alive?”

  
Pinocchio nodded hesitantly.

  
“It’s that long times ten, give or take.”

  
“Times?”

  
“Y’know, like multiplication.”

  
“Multiplication?”

  
“...Uh, never mind, Pinoke. Anyway, point is you can’t sit here forever. If he’s gonna show up he’ll show up. You can’t rush it.”

  
Pinocchio pursed his lips. “But I really want to see him again.”

  
“Well, a watched pot never boils.”

  
“I’m not watching a pot, I’m waiting for Lampwick.”

  
There was another sigh. Pinocchio felt as though he had been hearing a lot of those within the last several hours.

  
“Here,” Jiminy hopped off of the workbench, sidestepped Figaro who half-heartedly tried to swat at him from where he was now moping under Pinocchio’s chair, and then jumped up onto another shelf full of books. “How about we get a head start on reading, instead?”

  
Pinocchio looked at the books for a while and made a slight face.

  
“Oh, don’t give me that! You haven’t even tried it yet!”

  
“But I looked in a book before. It was really confusing.”

  
“It only looked confusing then because you didn’t know what any of the letters meant, much less any of the words. Don’t you wanna change that? Huh?”

  
“I guess so…”

  
That’s how they found themselves on the floor, then - Pinocchio was lying on his stomach with his crossed arms propping up his head, and Jiminy stood on the open pages of the book so as to point out words with his umbrella. After some time they (or Pinocchio, rather) carefully moved Cleo’s fishbowl down near them so she could observe, though she didn’t exactly offer much help when it came to reading. Figaro was evidently still too cross over Jiminy being put in charge of the household to participate, though the cat did watch them grumpily from atop the chair.

  
The task would have been much easier had Pinocchio not been so distracted, of course.

  
“D’you think Father will like him?”

  
Jiminy arched a brow. “Who?” He tapped his umbrella against the next word for the third time or so.

  
“Lampwick,” Pinocchio responded, and then squinted at the page. “Sate-”

  
“Sat. Short ‘a’.”

  
“But it’s the same size as all the other a’s.”

  
“Only if he’s keen on troublemakers. Keep goin’, that’s only the start of the word.”

  
“Sat-is…” Pinocchio trailed off halfway through.

  
“-Fied,” finished Jiminy. “F-i-e-d, sound it out.”

  
“But where’s the ‘e’? That's just an 'i' sound."

  
“It’s silent. But we need it, 'cause if it was just an 'i' it would be a short 'i' and then the word wouldn't sound like that.”

  
Pinocchio didn't follow any of that in the slightest. “Why?”

  
Jiminy paused, opened and closed his mouth a couple times as he searched for an answer, and then settled for, “because that's just how it is, Pinoke.”

  
“Oh." A pause. "Lampwick’s not a troublemaker!”

  
Jiminy didn’t respond and instead pointed at the word again.

  
“Sat-is-fied. Satisfied? What does that mean?”

  
“It means happy.” Jiminy stepped back a bit to scan over the full sentence as he read. “‘Then she was satisfied, for she knew the-”

  
Jiminy paused, pointing at the next word, which Pinocchio recognized from earlier sentences.

  
“Mirror?”

  
“‘-For she knew the mirror spoke the truth.’”

  
“And I’m gonna help him be good, remember?” Pinocchio continued where he had left off. “You don’t have to worry, Jiminy.”

  
“I’m not worried,” Jiminy groused.

  
“Then why are you mad?”

  
“I’m not mad, either.”

  
Pinocchio propped himself up on his elbows to cup his chin in his hands again, looking expectantly for further elaboration. Jiminy didn’t offer any.

  
“Maybe,” Pinocchio continued after a moment of silence, “if Lampwick ends up bein’ really good the Blue Fairy will give me a badge, too.”

  
Despite his irritability at the moment, Jiminy couldn’t quite help but chuckle at that. “You think so? I suppose I wouldn’t put it past her.”

  
“Then we’d match.”

  
Jiminy made a vague noise of agreement, and then he paused for a great while, and Pinocchio thought he was going to make him get back to reading.

That was not the case.

  
“Pinoke, why in the heck are you so hung up on this?”

  
Pinocchio frowned. “Wha’d’ya mean?”

  
“The Lampwick thing.”

  
“I dunno,” Pinocchio said, “he’s my friend, I guess.” But he worriedly fiddled with the hem of his sleeve as he spoke, trying to ignore the guilt that formed in his stomach. It wasn’t entirely truthful.

  
It just felt wrong, somehow, that Pinocchio had left all of those other boys. He didn’t really know them, he supposed, but they couldn’t have been all that bad. Lampwick wasn’t bad, after all. They should have come back with him - they all could have escaped together. Pinocchio felt oddly sick when he thought about the fact that he was the only one who had been saved. What had he done to deserve it more than anybody else? And what about all those new boys who might be going to the island even right now? Nobody was going to be there to help them. Shouldn’t that be his job, since he was the only one who got away?

  
But it made him nervous to even think about it too long - the very thought of the island made his chest feel tight, made it hard to think and to breathe, sometimes - and so he didn’t want to talk about it. Instead he shrugged his shoulders again after some thought.

  
“I just really wanna help him this time, is all.”

  
Jiminy seemed to not entirely believe him. Pinocchio only continued after a good while of distractedly tracing some of the words on the page.

  
“...And maybe if Lampwick can prove he’s learned to be good she’ll help everybody else, too?”

  
Jiminy sighed again, though not with exasperation - more of a sort of understanding. Pinocchio didn’t meet his gaze, not wanting to get that expectant look he knew he was being given.

  
“Pinoke, if you ask me, it sounds more like she’s doing this for you rather than for Lampwick.”

  
“Wha’d’ya mean?”

  
“I mean that boy hasn’t done a single thing to prove he’s learned any sort of lesson. We have no idea if he’s gonna listen to a word you or anybody else says, much less change for the better.”

  
“But-”

  
“-But he’s your friend and you miss him and you want to prove you’ve learned how to help others, and she’s givin’ you that chance. But if she were to change everybody back just like that,” he snapped his fingers, “then do you think they’re ever gonna learn?”

  
Pinocchio opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it again. It wasn’t fair, he wanted to say, but he already knew that - he had gone through awful, awful things, too, but the Fairy had said it made him learn. And maybe if it had never happened he wouldn’t know what he did today.

  
That didn’t mean it didn’t sting to think of those other kids, though. Or that he didn’t wish there had been some other way to be taught how to be real. And more than anything, it didn’t change the fact that he knew nobody else deserved something that terrible just for not being good.

  
“I guess,” Pinocchio said instead.

  
“And you know it isn’t up to you to help ‘em all, don’tcha?”

  
Pinocchio said nothing, just re-traced the word ‘mirror’ again, and whatever Jiminy was going to say next was cut off (much to Pinocchio’s relief) when the door swung open. His conscience shot him one more look of concern as Pinocchio scrambled to his feet, running over to help Geppetto with the groceries so he didn’t have to talk about it anymore.

They set out shortly thereafter to, firstly, buy a couple of new outfits for Pinocchio and secondly go have lunch. Jiminy declined the offer to tag along, despite Geppetto’s insistance, and though he claimed it was so he could just relax some without having to worry about the hassle of dealing with the birds that would no doubt show up to the picnic, he confided to Pinocchio before they left that it was high time the kid got some alone time with his father.

  
Pinocchio failed to see why this mattered when he would much rather spend time with the both of them, but couldn’t deny that he and Jiminy had been gone much longer than they had been home with Geppetto, so maybe he had some sort of point. And though he was briefly worried that Jiminy would attempt to shoo off Lampwick should he happen to appear in the hours Pinocchio was gone, he managed to get a (very irate) vow from the cricket that that would not be the case before he left.

  
The village was rather crowded as the morning rolled into the afternoon, and though Pinocchio stuck very close to Geppetto he couldn’t help the worry that gradually creeped into his thoughts as they walked along the already-familiar. Each flip of a cape or tap of a cane had him looking over his shoulder, worried that perhaps Honest John was out and about and would be angry with him for returning from Pleasure Island, or that maybe he might try and take him away from home again - but they made it to and from the various shops without incident, and gradually the fear subsided, though not entirely. Besides,there weren't many other animals in the village, anyway. Pinocchio thought that was strange. But at least it meant the fox would have been instantly recognizable from a distance.

He was suddenly very grateful that Jiminy had had the idea to postpone his first day of school, as the thought of walking the streets alone again was one he didn’t want to dwell on.

  
By the time they made it out to the field for lunch and the swim in the river that followed (the river was shallow, and nothing like the sea, which surprised Pinocchio greatly - he had been terrified at first that Geppetto would step in and instantly sink), his thoughts were nowhere near Pleasure Island, and as the afternoon faded to night he was too tired to think of anything at all, much less the excitement from the earlier hours of the day or the visitor he was so impatiently waiting for. He fell asleep before the walk home could be completed, and vaguely recognized Geppetto picking him up as they continued along their way before he was out like a light, his dreams far away from the worries of the past.


End file.
